The End of Him
by MeinBritishBroski
Summary: "Wishing I could find a way to wash away the past." Inspired by Love Song Requiem by Trading Yesterday. USUK angst fic, very faint scent of lemon.


Arthur watched the American move through half-lidded eyes; every movement had an apologetic undertone. His thin fingers traced along contours of skin, lips pressed softly onto scars - old, faded ones and much newer ones; pink and tender. Arthur tugged gently on Alfred's golden hair, easing him up so they were face to face, lips only an inch apart, eyes glazed with grief and lust.

They liked to pretend that this didn't hurt them. But it was as painful as pouring salt into each other's wounds - they took turns leaving each other in the sun to suffer. They took turns helping each other heal. It was far more painful to open old wounds than to create new ones - they both knew this.

"Alfred."

"Arthur." the American croaked in response; Arthur took note of how the muscles in his face quivered.

This was killing them both.

Arthur brought his hand up and caressed Alfred's cheek, instead of flinching away, the American only closed his eyes, breathed a short sigh of relief and allowed the other to touch him further - hands feeling along the sensitive flesh of his neck and to his firmly-built chest, resting over his heart.

The last thing he wanted to do was break the other man's heart; it was already so feeble and marred. Despite the American's appearance - he was easily hurt. Others - and he, himself - had often claimed he was as strong as a bull. But Arthur had seen through these words.

Alfred tried to be strong - he had always tried to be stronger, better, more experienced. But in the end; Arthur always saw him as a child - a poor, confused, helpless child. Just like he always had.

Children cried.

So did Alfred.

But only in front of Arthur. Only quiet tears were allowed to escape his eyes and pour down his cheeks when Arthur was around - and they did. Arthur caught them with the pads of his thumbs, brushing them away.

"It's alright, Alfred - you're allowed to cry."

He sat up completely, just as Alfred gave up trying to hold himself above Arthur's naked form - and he held him, moist cheeks pressed against Arthur's neck, he cried quietly, unmoving. Alfred's strong arms snaked around Arthur's lithe waist, so as to further press their bodies together, as close as they could be without being a single form.

Arthur rested his head among Alfred's disheveled blond hair, breathing in the scent. Guilt preyed on his mind; He shouldn't have let Alfred into his bed that first night - that had been the start of this. This unhealthy thing they had once every month - because Alfred was attached to him, he would neglect his work, buy a plane ticket, and fly to London.

Just because he wanted - no, he needed - to see Arthur.

And every month this would happen. Alfred would come to Arthur and he would love him and love him... and then he would cry. He wouldn't stop crying until he fell asleep. Arthur would hold him close to his heart because he knew what Alfred was trying to do.

He was trying to be forgiven.

Alfred was trying to erase his past, their shared past, the past - altogether. He was fed up with failure.

He knew it was impossible but he was too stubborn to quit.

He was only hurting himself - hurting himself the same way Arthur had hurt himself; he was rotting away on the inside. The self-hatred was making him weep.

"I'm going to buy you a plane ticket back to Washington; tonight."

Alfred's voice was muffled by the other's skin, "I don't want to leave you."

"It isn't healthy for you to be here. It isn't making you happy - I just want you to be happy-"

"I've always been happy here with you."

Arthur frowned, Alfred's hair tickled his nose. That was a lie - the whole reason Alfred had left in the first place was because he was unhappy - he was sick of being controlled, so they bickered and put scars on one another until he left for good. He needed to stop trying to erase what had happened. It wasn't healthy to suppress memories and it certainly wasn't healthy to be living in denial.

"Alfred, you have to learn how to forgive yourself."

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><p><strong>AN;** This will probably provoke lots of emotion if you listen to the song it was inspired by; Love Song Requiem - Trading Yesterday.  
>As you all know, I <em>love<em> USUK. Possibly _more_ than _Spamano _(omg yes I said it). I've never held any bad feelings towards FrUK - but it's not my favorite (I've written it before so you can judge me, na na na na boo boo~!)  
>I was looking at the poll on my lookup and saw that USUK was tied with GerIta and DenNor, so I did this first. I'll be working on a DenNor songfic - possibly Norway POV, just to see how I can handle it. Unless you guys would rather read something else.<p>

**Review? c:**


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